


Happy Birthday

by quicksparrows



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:57:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11922339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: Cherche slips between Frederick's legs for his birthday.





	Happy Birthday

Cherche lounges between his legs, her arms rested on his thighs and her hands on the fly of his trousers. She nudges the placket aside to undo the first button and then the second. He doesn't even blink. How could he, with her presence in his lap? He wouldn't want to miss even a blink's worth of this sight.

And then she stops, looking up at him with doe eyes and a small, rosy-lipped smile.

"Darling?" she says.

He reaches for her, running a hand through her hair to brush her bangs from her face. His palm settles somewhere around the crown of her head, fingers gently laced in her hair.

"Go on, then," he says.

Cherche practically purrs, shifting under his hand and arching her back. From his vantage point, her hips are that much fuller than her waist; a delectable little slope he'd love to get his hands around. The peach of her bottom would be a nice palmful if he were to just lean over and take it, too. He'd touch all of her, in fact, with an unyielding passion, a possessiveness. Gods, how this woman could drive him to madness!

"Go on with what?" she asks, with a flutter of those doe eyes.

Frederick feels a bead of sweat move down the back of his neck, and his heartbeat quickens. His grip on her hair tightens, slowly, and she leans up into that touch.

He leans into her, this woman draped over his lap, and he whispers to her, "Don't be coy with me."

But coy is what Cherche is, every sleek and lacy inch of her. She laughs a little and she presses a kiss to his groin and then takes his cock out. He is fat and hard in her hands, and gods, he is a lucky man to have her hands on him.

"It's your birthday today," she says. 

"It is," he hums, and she leans in so tantalizingly close that the head of his cock brushes her cheek, leaving the slightest wet smear. Gods, this woman.

His cock stands tall in her hand, and her lips are teasingly close. He knows how soft they are, and the deftness of her tongue. She looks up at him as she strokes him.

"So tell me what to do, darling," Cherche whispers slyly, her smile catlike and begging for cream. "You come hardest when you're giving orders."

Frederick feels his pride swell almost bigger than his cock. 

"Kiss the head, then," Frederick orders. "And don't touch yourself until I say so."

He feels her tense slightly, the curve of her back tightening, and she shifts so she isn't sat on her own heel -- her usual trick, down with Achilles. She smiles at him still.

"Yes, daddy," she replies.

Cherche revels in that kind of obedience.

Frederick's toes flex in his boots at first contact, her lips plush and warm against him. She kisses him once, twice, a third time, and he strokes her hair approvingly. Each one causes him a little uptick in anticipation, makes him a little harder. 

"When you are— _ready_ , milady," he says.

Cherche licks her lips and takes him into her mouth.


End file.
